


Her Guardian

by posingasme



Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: F/M, Guilt, Self-Hatred, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Situation & quotations taken from S2.10, "Guardians."</p><p>Owen has just made breakfast for Nikita, and forces himself to ask her about Michael. Because sometimes he needs the reminder that Nikita's heart belongs to someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakfast

"Speaking of which, where is your scruffier half?"

Nikita lowered her eyes back to her breakfast. "He's figuring some stuff out."

Owen swallowed, and tried to smile. "You want to call him?"

The dark eyes gave nothing away. "I want you to tell me about this guardian."

So he did, as much as he could, but in the back of his mind, Owen was asking himself, what was there to figure out?

How could Michael possibly need time to figure out anything, when this amazing woman was right there? He had never really liked Michael, mainly because Michael had never really liked him, but he had always thought the guy was smart. Smarter than him, certainly. But he had to wonder. If he was smart, maybe he was also crazy. Walking away from Nikita sure didn't seem smart to Owen. Either Michael had lost his brain or he had lost his mind.

He struggled not to stare at the strong beauty while he filled her in on the missing guardian and his rocky relationship with Tasarov.

You wouldn't catch him walking away from Nikita. That was for damn sure.

Nikita loved Michael, and he knew that. And when all was said and done, Owen really did respect Michael. That guy was the only honorable dude associated with Division, and that included Owen himself. And other than him, there was nobody he wanted watching Nikita's back more than Michael.

But could he be blamed for wanting to watch the rest of her?

Owen had loved and lost, and he knew he should be glad he had loved at all, but thinking of his past heartbreak made him feel hollow. Only guilt filled that wound. His only venture into love had been a disaster, a complete and total horror. He had promised himself-and her!-long ago that he was never going to fall in love again.

That didn't stop him from falling in love with Nikita.

It was adrenaline and the regimen, the foxhole lust, Florence freaking Nightingale or something. Owen had tried to dismiss it as anything else. Nikita had saved him, nursed him, fought at his side, nearly died with him many times...She was beautiful and brilliant and passionate, that was all it was. Owen was lonely, that was all.

That wasn't all. Owen was lonely, absolutely, but he could have found company. He was completely struck by Nikita. He denied it every day, every night when he struggled to sleep...But the fact was that he loved her. She was his general, and he would follow her orders and march into the mouth of Hell if she told him to. But that wasn't all. He would also wait forever for her if only she would give him just a hint of hope that one day she could love him too.

He knew she cared about him. She had shown that again and again. Michael had been right; she should have put Owen down like a mad dog when he came off his reg. When he had finally gotten his head cleared out, he had wondered how Nikita had lived so long giving folks so many chances as she had given Owen. Owen had never deserved the first chance she had given him, let alone any of the others since. Even now that she knew he was the one who had...he had been Daniel's cleaner, after all. And yet she still cared for him. It was incomprehensible to Owen, but he loved her all the more for it.

And Nikita was lonely too. How could Michael stand to leave her alone? If Owen had what he had, Nikita would never have the chance to make her own breakfast again.

He was smiling at her now. He couldn't help it.

"What?"

"Nothing," he murmured through a smirk. "I just-" He took a breath, wondering if she could hear his adoration in his voice. "I'd forgotten how bossy you can be, and...well, I kind of missed that," he teased.

The smile he received was worth dying for. And not only because it was beautiful. Because Nikita deserved to smile, and he wanted to be the one to help her do it. "Shut up," she laughed as she carried her breakfast plate to the sink.

Owen switched gears back to business, back to his confusion about why this guardian would have left his post without a direct order from Percy himself. But he was sorry to see the smile fade as Nikita became focused again.

She was his general, and he was her guardian. If he never got to be anything else to her, he would be grateful to be that. He would never forget to be grateful for that.


	2. His General

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikita opens up to Owen.

When he asked about the nerdy jackass, he was not expecting Nikita to look like she had been slapped across the face. When she admitted that Birkoff had been tortured by Amanda, her eyes had ripped out Owen's heart.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," she breathed. But she was not meeting his eyes.

He felt himself moving in, as if her grief were pulling him toward her. He wanted to hold her, to touch her face and promise never to let her get hurt again. Instead, he simply repeated his question. "No, really. Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

His chest tightened. This selfless woman, this brilliant, selfless warrior, she was hurting, and he couldn't see his way to making it better. He hated himself for that.

"I don't know," she whispered again. "Every time I feel like I've got a handle on one part of my life, another part of it slips away!"

Owen winced. Somehow, he had to help her, had to make this better. Even...even if it meant calling Michael, Owen had to make this better.

"...and if I lose focus for even one second, someone gets hurt, someone I love! Birkoff!" She was choking on her emotion now. Pain flashed in her dark eyes. "Ryan," she flinched. "Who am I going to lose next? You?"

The world stopped for an instant, and Owen could not breathe. Then he was breathing too shallowly, and the world, it was spinning too fast. He could not speak, and so she continued.

"I'm so tired," she whispered. "I don't want to hurt anyone...anymore."

Owen gathered his strength, every ounce, and took a step forward. "What do you want?" Because he would give it to her. No matter what it was, he would bend the universe to her will. He wasn't smart, not like she was. Not like Michael. But he was strong, and fearless. He would give her-

"I want to stop."

His heart fell and he nearly went down with it. That was the one thing he could not allow her. Nikita could not stop. Not because she wasn't allowed to. She didn't owe the world-least of all him-anything. But he knew Nikita, knew she couldn't stop. That would be the end of this passionate warrior. If she stopped, she would never be able to live.

So he responded the only way he could think to do. "I don't think you can. You have to help people. You have to stand up for those who can't fight for themselves." His voice gained momentum, and he spoke from his heart. "Because, Nikita-" _Because you are my warrior, you are the one good thing in this whole world, because if you stop, what the hell can I do? Because, Nikita, you are everything. You are my warrior, and I fight for you, and if you stop, I'm nothing at all._ "It's the right thing to do." He saw her eyes on him, searching his face, and absorbing his words. "Division...They gave you a gift. When they gave you the ability to kill? They also gave you the ability to protect." He smiled at her with all the hero worship he could not dampen down, lowered his head to meet her eyes so she could see every raw part of his soul. "You taught me that."

And Nikita nodded. He could see her gathering up her strength. But as she turned away, her next words struck his heart like a physical blow. "I don't know if Michael's coming back. I think...I don't know if Michael's coming back."

Owen could not stop himself. He lowered his gaze at last, tried to hold back the words, but...

"You know, if-if he can't see what he left behind..." _Don't say it. For god's sake, Elliot, just don't. She loves him. You know she loves him!_ "Maybe you shouldn't be together."

He held his breath until Nikita had turned to walk away in silent contemplation. His eyes closed, and his heart ached. For a man who had so much training, he was incredibly prone to letting his guard down. This particular assassin, his warrior, his general, she was destroying his heart one smile, one sigh at a time.

Owen was strong. Fearless. He was a survivor and a fighter. He was good, better than most, at what he did. But he was inadequate. When it came to Nikita, he was just not good enough. So it was no wonder that Owen hung up with Nikita many hours later, and immediately dialed again. When it came down to it, Owen wanted her safe more than he wanted her love. And there was just one other person on the planet he trusted with Nikita's safety. It tore a new gash in his heart to do it, but Nikita needed protection, and as much as it made him sick to admit it, he was not the one in the best position to give her that.

It seemed that was the way it was destined to happen. Owen would never be the one Nikita could rely on, even if there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

So now he was glaring at Ari Tasarov, loathing him, and wanting to feel the satisfying crack of his neck through his flesh. He hated him for trying to kill Nikita, for trying to use the black box, and he hated him for the things he said, because they were the same things Owen said to himself.

Stupid.

What did Nikita see in him? Why did she still have faith in him?

It really was no wonder that Percy thought the best use for Owen was to watch a box. He was a fighter, and that was all he was. It was all he had ever been, and all he would ever be. Percy didn't choose his guardians for their brains. He chose them for their ability to follow orders and fight. Owen had been glad to move out of the position of cleaner, so much that he had neglected to see the truth of his new job as guardian. Percy didn't choose men like Michael as guardians. Not heroes, not honorable geniuses like Michael. Not the ones who could think for themselves and who could be useful in other ways. No, Percy chose the fastest, most brutal meat as his guardians. Just smart enough to protect the box. Not smart enough to be a threat in any way.

Tasarov, the son of a bitch, was right.

Owen would never be good enough for Nikita, not honorable enough or smart enough. But guardians were chosen for their ability to follow orders and fight, and he would do that for his general, his warrior. Michael might be smart. He might have Nikita's heart. But Owen was loyal, and he loved her for everything she was, for everything he would never be himself, for everything she had tried to teach him to be. It wasn't enough. But it was all he could be.


End file.
